


Archer Boy

by KucatsHouse



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Happy Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, M/M, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Fluff, Post-Book 6: City of Heavenly Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 08:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18961465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KucatsHouse/pseuds/KucatsHouse
Summary: Magnus spends a portion of his morning watching Alec prep his weapons.





	Archer Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Characters and story concept the property of Cassandra Clare.
> 
> This is the companion piece to "Over Morning Coffee."

A Shadowhunter at work was something of an art. They were raised to hunt demons, and were both deadly and efficient at the task. But many Nephilim were also lithe and light on their feet; some were muscular and robust while others were wiry and lean, but all of them seemed to dance. Even in the midst of battle, with blood and ichor staining the ground, there was a grace, an elegance to their movements born from the angelic blood they carry. If they hadn’t been born to battle the forces of Hell, many of them would have made fantastic artists of all kinds - Clary Fairchild was proof of that.

Watching a Shadowhunter prepare for battle was just as pleasant to witness. There was a militaristic precision about the way they armed themselves and donned the dark gear of their profession. Some treated their weapons as mere tools: useful yet disposable and easily replaced. Jace Herondale was known to go through weapons as frequently as hairbrushes. But others treated their kits with care, as if their blades and steles were extensions of their own limbs. Alec Lightwood was of the latter group. The attention and care he gave to his gear - in particular, his bow - could well rival a mother’s protectiveness of their first born. Magnus loved to simply sit and watch him at his task.

Seated at the breakfast table, Magnus nursed a half-empty mug of tea in his hands, heavily ringed fingers drumming lightly on the sides, a soft ringing chime sounding whenever metal struck ceramic. He leaned back in his chair, long legs crossed at the ankles, outfitted in close fitting black jeans with a half unbuttoned dress shirt that looked more like an abstract painting. Magnus was waiting to meet a client, the contract spread out on the table. He should have been reviewing the documents, but right now his green-gold eyes were focused on Alec.

The Shadowhunter was seated on the floor of the main room, barefoot and crosslegged, humming some nameless tune now and then. He sat with his back to the front door, giving Magnus a good look at his profile. The coffee table had been pushed aside providing more floor space that was quickly covered by a variety of arrows, seraph blades, daggers, throwing knives, and dark gear.   His unstrung bow was across his knees, over which Alec was running a fluffy white cloth in an effort to clean it of dirt, sweat, and dried ichor. Chairman Meow was next to Alec, curled up in the folds of his gear jacket, pawing at Alec’s stele.

From his vantage point, Magnus could see the intense concentration on Alec’s face as he worked. His dark head was bowed, blue eyes half shielded by a fall of hair and wholly fixed upon his task. Whenever he was concentrating on anything, Alec would press his lips together until they formed a thin line. Occasionally, an exhale of breath would sound audibly in the silence of the loft; it was as if Alec sometimes forgot to breathe while he worked. He continued with his cleaning until every angle, every crevice of the bow was spotless.

Alec set the bow aside and reached for his bowstrings. From the leather pouch embossed with the Good Luck rune, he pulled out three black strings, unwinding them gently. Calloused fingers flitted over the first string, seeking out frays and weak spots. When one was found, Alec held the string up to his eyes, studying it to determine the extent of damage. Based on Alec’s frown, there was no saving the string. He wound the string in both hands, gave a sharp tug and was rewarded with a snap, the bowstring falling into halves. Even for a Shadowhunter, snapping a bowstring barehanded should have been impossible; Alec’s ability to do so was a testament to the extent of damage. Alec set the pieces aside for disposal, allowing the Chairman to play with them, before moving on to the other two strings. They both seemed to pass inspection.

Anticipating what was about to happen, Magnus leaned forward in his chair, bracing his elbows on his knees as he watched Alec, who worked with his back to Magnus. This was the part of Alec’s routine Magnus liked best.

The eldest Lightwood got to his feet and stretched, working out his muscles before reaching for his bow to check the string’s tension. Deft fingers slipped first one bowstring loop over the top limb, pressing it down slowly, before slipping the other loop over the bottom limb and settling it into its groove. With the bottom limb down, Alec stepped into the opening of his bow with his left leg and settled the dip of the limb against his right ankle. The muscles in his left arm flexed as he pulled the top bow limb toward his chest. The bow curved over his thigh and hip as Alec slipped the top loop in place. Stepping out of the bow, Alec lifted it in his hands and pulled as if he were aiming an arrow. 

Cat eyes followed each of Alec’s movements, studying them as carefully as he studied potion ingredients. Even through Alec’s loose fitting shirt and jeans, Magnus could see the muscles of his body contract and flex as he set the bowstring and pulled to check the tension. Cat eyes roamed over each ridge of muscle, mesmerized by their movements. His fingers twitched, wanting to trace over those ridges.

So focused on Alec was he that Magnus forgot about the cup he was holding. It slipped from his hands, clattering and bouncing on the floor, spilling the remains of his tea over his feet. Magnus snapped out of his stupor, muttering a curse before reaching for a dishcloth.

“Everything okay?” Alec asked, lowering his bow and turning towards Magnus.

“Fine,” Magnus said, attempting to hide his embarrassment as he mopped up the spilt tea. He missed the knowing smile on Alec’s face; the Shadowhunter had known he was being watched.

“Distracted, were you?”

Magnus tossed the dishcloth aside, retrieving his mug from where it had fallen. He met Alec’s eyes and smiled as he stood from his chair. “Who wouldn’t be, when I have the most gorgeous looking Shadowhunter in my living room.” His smile turned feral at Alec’s blush. Magnus made his way over to his lover, hooking a finger into a belt loop. He tugged Alec closer to place a gentle kiss upon his neck, feeling a shiver pass through Alec at the caress. “Now who’s distracted?” Magnus pressed another kiss to his neck and smiled against Alec’s skin. He felt a hand reach for his belt, pulling him closer.

“You’re such a tease.” Alec’s hand moved from Magnus’ belt to the front of his shirt. A warm, calloused palm slipped into the open front, settling against Magnus’ chest. His fingers skimmed back and forth against the bronze skin. Magnus’ chest expanded beneath his hand with a sharp intake of breath.

“Look who’s talking.” Lifting his head, he caught Alec’s lips with his own, smothering his surprised gasp. Wrapping both arms across Alec’s back, Magnus drew him close, inhaling deeply the scent of clean soap and mint from their morning tea. His fingers began roaming over those muscles he was admiring as his tongue flicked across Alec’s bottom lip.

Alec had his free hand caught between them as they kissed. He could feel both their hearts beating: Magnus’ a steady beat against his palm while his own pulse was hummingbird quick. Being near Magnus, after all this time, still made his heart race.  Each touch seemed to ignite a fire under his skin. Having Magnus close was like a drug, and he didn’t mind being addicted.

The buzzer sounded then, interrupting them. “Mr. Bane?” a nasally sounding voice echoed through the loft. “I’m here for the ten o’clock appointment.”

With a heavy sigh, Magnus reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, scowling as he turned to the front door. “Damn this client and their timing,” he muttered, waving his hand. Blue sparks emitted from his fingertips as the buzz of the building door sounded, allowing their visitor to enter the building.

“Should I go?” Alec asked, beginning to pull away. He didn’t resist as Magnus tugged him closer.

“Why?” Magnus asked. “It’s your home. They are the guest.” He claimed another kiss before reluctantly letting go. “Besides, you’ll be a good reminder for them not to linger too long and waste my time.” 

One corner of Alec’s lips quirked in a comprehending smirk before he settled back down on the floor. Setting his bow to the side, he reached for a seraph blade. Chairman Meow had abandoned the gear jacket and resettled in Alec’s lap as the Nephilim called forth the blade and began polishing the faintly glowing surface.

A knock sounded at the front door. Stepping towards it, Magnus snapped his fingers to start the kettle for a fresh pot of tea. With his hand on the door knob, he turned for another look at Alec. Never in all his days did Magnus ever think he would fall for a child of the Angel. In Alec’s eyes, he could see past generations of Shadowhunters. He had known many in his long life - some he liked, some he loved, and some he despised. But none ever quite like his Alec, his archer boy.

Magnus smiled at the sight of Alec at work before opening the door and facing the day.


End file.
